


unwatched pot

by strawberrv



Series: a study in gender [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Gender Identity, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, lapslock, nonbinary angus mcdonald, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrv/pseuds/strawberrv
Summary: it’s a strange feeling, warring with himself. consciously he wants everything to go on as it has been; he wants to go to school and help taako with dinner and visit magnus and his dogs on the weekends, and hedoesn’twant to make a big deal out of considering for a millisecond the possibility of wearing a dress.





	unwatched pot

**Author's Note:**

> hail and well met, lgbt community !
> 
> lmao SO this is the first in what im hoping is gonna be a few fics focusing on angus's transition and subsequent coming out! i love nb angus with my whole entire heart and here are a few fics that inspired this one!
> 
>  
> 
> [Floating Alone ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878927)  
> [Trans Horny Boys and Co](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591775/chapters/26053098)  
> [Walk Tall With Pride](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097553)
> 
>    
> please check them out and leave a kudos! and if any of the authors come across this fic, thank you for bringing even more rep to this already amazing fic community <3
> 
> angus is also autistic here, but i didn't tag bc it's not a main focus (but hopefully will be in future fics!)  
> and basically everyone in my tazverse is gender fucky so if ur wondering about a specific character and if they will come up later: yes and probably.
> 
> angus is 13 in this fic !
> 
> also the series title is supposed to be like . a study in scarlet . but gender . u know. anyway bye

angus mcdonald, against his better judgement, is shopping.

indeed, taako has fussed and fretted numerous times over his “drab and stuffy fancy boy suits -- really angles i’ll take care of the clothes shopping from now on,” and up until now angus has been ok with that.

more than ok; taako has always had grand and beautiful clothing, matching just right even when multiple prints and fabrics were involved, so angus knew he was in good hands. and taako had even toned down his own sensibilities on such shopping trips, bringing home soft sweaters with subtle patterns and darker colors. angus does love his midnight blue.

despite all that, angus had hurriedly packed up his things at the end of his last class, said a quick goodbye to lucas, and called taako on his stone of farspeech to let him know that he was stopping by the bookstore on his way home, so don’t worry if he’s a little late.

he swallowed the bitter taste of the lie on his tongue, and raced to the neverwinter mall, tapping his foot on the escalator while holding fast to the straps of his knapsack.

and now, here he stands, in front of one of the only things that’s made him lie to taako.

it’s simple; plain, really. taako probably wouldn’t approve. he might direct angus to the sparkling green dress on that mannequin, or the red velvet one with a tie in the back over in the corner. 

but no, no angus has this one picked out. he’d seen it first on a trip with lucretia to pick up more stationery, out of the corner of his eye, through one of the large glass windows enclosing this store. a pale pink number, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. it’s tight-fitting, made to hug the thighs, and ends just above the knee.

angus would know; he knows almost everything about this dress after doing some research on the designer and inspecting the photos of it on various models in the spring catalogue. 80% cotton, 20% spandex, 45 gold pieces at any given retailer, but here in neverwinter it’s marked down to 30.

angus puts a hand in his pocket, comforted by the smooth, cool gold pieces his fingers find there. his weekly allowance.

he taps his foot, looks around. it’s mid-afternoon on a friday, so there are quite a few shoppers browsing the racks. a young tiefling woman is looking at that red velvet dress in the corner. an aarakocra holds up a shirt to their torso, and a few half-elf teenagers are over by the shoes.

angus’s gaze slips back to the dress. in a way, he’s reminded of the relics, of their thrall. he feels almost mesmerized whenever he looks at this dress, can’t help but to reach out and touch the fabric, trace the lines of it with his eyes. 

he’s been coming in to this store almost every day since seeing it with lucretia, and he had told himself that today is the day. he’ll get the extra small, leave the tag on, keep the receipt, just in case, and try it on at home.

he can’t try it on here -- the thought of clutching the hanger in white-knuckled fists, stutteringly asking an attendant for a dressing room, examining himself under the harsh lights of the store… it’s just too much. he wants to see himself in it at home, in his room, with his lamp on and the sounds of taako cooking dinner downstairs.

without letting himself second-guess any longer, he grabs the dress off the rack, and books it over to the self-checkout. 

[]

with a certain frantic quickness, angus rushes up the stairs to his room, missing a suspicious glance from taako on his way.

he dumps his knapsack on the rug covering most of the hardwood of his bedroom, and takes out the dress, only slowing down to carefully unfold it.

he stands, draping it over his mirror while he unzips his jacket and removes his button-down and corduroy pants.

he doesn’t miss the metaphoric perfection of it — removing his, up to this point, unquestioned gender as male, to adopt a new sensibility not just in clothing, but in identity— and he holds up the dress to his torso with shaking hands.

it’ll be a little long on him, he knows, but luckily an extra small in the women’s section is comparable to angus’s usual junior boys’ clothes. he looks down, to where the hemline falls just at his knees, and how the material sags between his fingertips. he avoids the mirror.

he’s not stupid, he knows what this means. 

well, not exactly _what_ this means, for him, but he won’t deny that it means _something._

he knows it won’t be a big deal in his immediate personal life, taako certainly would never make him feel uncomfortable; angus has seen his own dress collection on numerous occasions when doing the laundry.

but, no matter how diverse his friends and family may be, it doesn’t erase the greater societal context of this. of the fact that angus did indeed get this particular garment from the _women’s_ section, that he’s been wearing fancy _boy_ suits for as long as he can remember.

it doesn’t erase the sting of his father’s belt.

or the sharpness of his mother’s nails on the nape of his neck.

_a boy should be hardy, angus. tough and unshakeable._

a knock on his door startles angus out of his memories, and he drops the dress on floor in front of him.

“everything ok in there, punkin?”

angus places a hand on his chest, suddenly aware that he’s not wearing any clothes.

“u-uh, yes! yes, i’m just reading, taako!”

there’s a pause during which angus does a 360 on the spot, looking at the dress, his abandoned shirt and pants, the door, and his bed, where he suddenly has the urge to be, buried under his comforter.

“ok, well, dinner’s in 10 ango,” taako says, and lingers a moment before angus sees his shadow move away underneath the door.

shakily, angus lets out a breath and bends down to pick up the dress. he shakes it out, holding it up once again to himself. he’s suddenly braving a wave of nausea.

he doesn’t know why this is so — so… difficult! not that it’s even difficult, of course all he really has to do is put it on, but, but…

frustrated, he throws it back on the floor, once again an unthreatening pink pile of fabric.

he stomps over to his dresser, pulling out some comfier clothes before heading downstairs for dinner.

[]

taako’s made pasta with a rich, creamy green sauce, and roasted radishes on the side.

it’s delicious, of course, but angus can’t quite fight off the nausea that had developed in his room. he moves his noodles around, only managing a few bites.

taako takes his plate without fuss, but even in such a state angus can’t miss taako’s shoulders holding more tension than usual, and his ears a little perky, as if on alert. 

[]

in the following days, angus really can’t even bring himself to look at the dress.

he shoves it way back in his closet, suddenly distressed by even the thought of it.

it’s such a heel turn from his enamoration with it while in the store, that even he can’t quite make sense of it. though, in all honesty, he doesn’t particularly try.

he puts on his vests and his button-downs and his straight-legged pants, and he slips his glasses over the bridge of his nose every morning, and he keeps his mouth shut about that dress.

it’s a strange feeling, warring with himself. consciously he wants everything to go on as it has been; he wants to go to school and help taako with dinner and visit magnus and his dogs on the weekends, and he _doesn’t_ want to make a big deal out of considering for a millisecond the possibility of wearing a dress.

but then.

under the surface, just underneath his heart, more towards his middle where his sternum sits in his chest, there’s this feeling.

angus has sat and ruminated on it before, but it’s… it’s not something he can put to words without difficulty. it’s soft and scared but simultaneously burgeoning within him, bright and just as unavoidable as it is unspeakable for him. 

an unwatched pot, boiling over with every day that passes.

most days he can press the lid back on, and avert his gaze from things like that pink dress. 

but lately, lately.

lately, as evidenced by said dress hanging in his closet this very moment, it’s been harder to ignore.

or maybe it’s that angus is becoming less and less willing _to_ ignore it. 

because, part of that unspeakable truth is that he _wants_ those things.

he wanted that dress with a fervor he’d never felt before. he aches to break free of the invisible hold his father has on his arm, dragging him to the tailor to get his suits done. he longs for that secret, soft, and sorcerous thing that taako has, with his spindly limbs that fit into blazers and blouses alike. that aunt lup has, with her clattery bangles and flowing skirts.

angus just. wants.

his soul sits ravenous for something it’s being denied, and it’s scary.

[]

“you ok there, kiddo?” taako asks from across the table.

tonight’s dinner is a thick stew with potatoes and carrots. angus becomes aware that he hasn’t tried it yet, and quickly takes a bite. after swallowing, he replies, “yes, sir, it’s very good!”

taako tilts his head, eyes wide and unreadable. he taps angus on the top of the head.

“no sirs in this house, my dude.”

angus winces.

“sorry.”

taako takes a sip of his drink, a smoothie thing he’d made this morning.

“seriously, you can tell me if there’s anything going on; you know i’ll kick that miller nerd’s ass if he’s failing you or whatever.”

angus laughs, taking another bite and chewing slowly. 

taako’s trying to be nonchalant, which angus appreciates, but he can tell taako’s more concerned than is being let on.

“i know, taako,” he says, finally.

he offers a small smile and goes back to his food. they finish dinner in relative silence, but taako seems the tiniest bit assuaged, and that’s all angus can manage at the moment.

[]

8 days after he bought the dress, angus decides to finally put it on.

his heart pounds as he reaches back into his closet, and his throat catches as his fingers find the soft material. 

moving back to his mirror, he drapes it once again over the frame, methodically removing his day clothes that he went shopping with taako in -- a blue sweater and some jeans.

he takes the dress into his hands, and shuts his eyes as he slips it over his head. he stretches his arms through the sleeves, adjusts the turtleneck, and pulls the hem down to his knees all without looking.

it’s as soft as he expected, though the tag that he hasn’t removed is pressing into his side. he balls his hands into fists and slowly, slowly, cracks one eye open.

and then he opens the other eye.

and then he blinks.

and he swallows, still mildly nauseous as he had been a week ago in this very same spot, but it’s different. his palms sweat and his heart pounds and his gut is twisting and turning because -- because, well, he loves it.

in a way, his greatest fear has come to fruition.

in another way, he’s relieved beyond belief. 

despite himself, he spins on the spot, looking over his shoulder in the mirror.

damn.

he loves it.

he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. he hops a little bit, too excited to be still.

the dress is the tiniest bit too large, as he anticipated, but the light color looks pretty against his brown skin, and the sleeves are the right length, and the turtleneck gives him a certain studious look that goes well with his glasses.

and he’s happy. 

as if his doubts themselves were consumed by a voidfish, angus doesn’t know what he was so afraid of.

[]

a half hour later, after twenty more minutes of looking at himself, and ten of just sitting on the floor, rocking himself with glee, he stands up, and cracks his door open.

he can hear water running and the sounds of dishes clattering downstairs.

he clears his throat.

“taako?” he calls.

the water doesn’t stop, but the clattering does for moment.

“yeah, ango?”

“can you come here for a second?”

a slightly louder _thud_ sounds from the kitchen, as if taako had dropped something in the sink. the water stops too.

“of course! everything ok, though?”

angus smiles, thinking of how pale taako must’ve gone imagining angus in some horrible pickle.

“yes, taako, nothing’s wrong!”

after a few more moments, angus hears taako’s light steps on the staircase, and he takes a deep breath, clasping his hands in front of him.

taako swings the door open, his juicy™ nighttime robe swishing around him.

“what’s up with the cryptic invite, shmangus, i almost broke my favorite --”

taako stops mid-sentence, finally turning his gaze toward angus himself.

“--mug.” he finishes after a moment.

he blinks then, seemingly shaking himself into forming words.

angus’s stomach is tying itself in knots as he watches taako’s face carefully.

“you get that from the mall, bubbeleh? christ, i have _got_ to hit these trendy teen stores, taako needs this spring collection,” he says, and angus can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in his mouth, nor can he stop the tears that well up in his eyes.

he unfolds his hands, and his fingers ache from holding so tight, and he’s still a little nauseous, but mostly he’s _relieved._

he didn’t know how worried he’d been about taako’s reaction until this moment. and, of course, taako is so… perfectly _taako,_ angus thinks he could have guessed that line if he hadn’t been so stressed out of his mind.

he sniffles and wipes under his eyes with a knuckle, looking back up at taako, who looks a little bewildered, but also… also loving, and worried, and _fond._

“you… you like it?” angus asks, and they lock eyes, and in this moment a wordless exchange of emotion occurs. something quiet, and knowing.

taako sinks to his knees and throws open his arms.

angus shuffles over and follows him to the ground, pressing his face into taako’s shoulder.

hands rub over his back, and taako says, waveringly,

“oh, kiddo.”

angus lets out a small sob.

“you’ve been uh, really going through it these last few days, huh?”

he sounds like he wants to cry, and also like he’s guilty.

angus shrugs.

taako squeezes him tight and pulls away, wiping away tears from angus’s cheeks, and under his eyes.

then he meets his gaze, and says, with conviction,

“i love it, angus. there’s nothing i would change about it. it’s perfect.”

and angus sobs harder, falling back into the hug as if returning from a long and tiring journey.

they stay like that for awhile, taako giving the occasional reassurance.

after angus calms down, only sniffles escaping every so often, taako takes his hand.

“angles, you know i’d never get mad or be disappointed in you for wearing this, right?” taako implores, brows furrowed and eyes soft.

angus nods, “i know, taako, but, i guess i was just,” he sniffles.

“i was just thinking of… my old parents, i guess. and i was worried about -- about what it meant and i didn’t want everything to change and --”

“hey, hey,” taako cuts him off.

“no sweat, bubbeleh, believe me i can dig. taako’s first time wearing a skirt out wasn’t the smoothest fuckin’ sailing.”

he shifts and sits back on his knees.

“this stuff isn’t easy, especially when it’s all in your head at first, it’s like, what the fuck am i supposed to do with this feeling?”

angus nods fervently.

taako sighs.

“i just. i just want you to know i got your back, kiddo. me and lup, well, we had each other, but we mostly had to do it alone and that’s not something i want for you.”

he snorts, “jeezy creezy, i can’t believe i didn’t smell an identity crisis a month out, she’s gonna have my ass about this.”

angus giggles, and squeezes taako’s hand. “i know, taako. and i’m really sorry you and aunt lup didn’t have the support you needed.”

taako waves a hand dismissively.

“decades past, angles, decades past. what’s important to me is that i get to be here for you now.” he smiles, and cups angus’s cheek.

“i never want you afraid to be yourself, especially around me and the other idiots. in fact, i’ll tell ya a secret.”

angus feels his eyes go wide and taako leans in to whisper in his ear, “merle wears heels to make himself taller.”

angus laughs, loud and hiccuping, and taako does too, and angus feels this piece of himself, of his identity, slot right into a place that’s warm, and loved.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! tell me what your fav part was in the comments, and concrit is welcome!
> 
> sizzleitupwtaako.tumblr.com


End file.
